Before she could even think about what she might be doing and if she should stop, Kyle was back. The box of condoms hit the floor right by the couch and then he landed on top of her again. He kissed and licked her neck, then he bit it.
Emma whimpered and clung to Kyle. A few more seconds and she’d start begging. A few more seconds and she’d promise the man absolutely anything.
Kyle could smell her lust for him, and it pushed him past the point of being human. His cat side took over his human body with every intention of having the hot little thing desperately pushing his sweatpants down.
Naked and warm and so wet Kyle thought both his heads might explode, this little gal had brought out a side of him he’d always had under serious control.
With only a touch and a kiss, this woman had ripped away all of that, leaving the raw animal behind.
His sweats pushed down enough, Kyle slammed that stupid condom on and shoved her back down to the couch, moving over her. The last remnants of his human self yelled at him to slow down, to take it easy, but he couldn’t. Especially when she reached for his cock with both hands while spreading her legs wide. Her pussy glistened at him in the firelight, and he snarled.
Before her hands could get a firm grip, he grabbed her wrists and pushed them above her head, pinning her to the spot and reminding him of that wonderful dream. He placed the tip of his cock against her wet slit, and while they both watched, he shoved into her hard.
“Damn!” he groaned.
“God!” she screamed.
He stopped. Lord, he didn’t want to hurt her. But she looked at him with such horror, he did all he could to rein himself in. Until she said, “What … what are you doing?” She fought the hands holding her down.
Kyle looked down into her face, where the beginning of tears filled her eyes. He knew then he had to let her go. He wouldn’t hurt Emma. Not for anything.
Then she said, “Please, Kyle. Please.” He stared at her, and suddenly he realized what he was seeing. Not pain or fear … but hunger. Hunger for him. The same hunger he had for her. They wanted the same thing, the same way.
That was all he needed to know.
Releasing her arms, Kyle ordered, “Grab your knees, darlin’, and lift ‘em.”
After one startled look, she did what he ordered and wrapped her hands around her knees, lifting them up so her thighs cradled his hips. He placed his hands on either side of her chest.
Staring down at her, he prayed his fangs wouldn’t come out. “Hold on.”
With that, he drove into her as hard as he wanted to. Emma screamed, her back arching, her fingers gripping her knees tighter. He slammed into her again and again. By the fourth stroke she was coming, and he wasn’t nearly done.
Emma couldn’t have stopped that orgasm if she tried. Never in her life had she been fucked so hard, and wow … did it rock, or what? She pulled her knees higher, allowing him deeper inside her body, and her orgasm simply kept rolling along.
“Look at me, Emma.”
She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes and had turned her head away until he said that. Emma looked into Kyle’s face, and another wave slammed into her.
No one had ever looked at her like that. No one.
“That’s right, darlin’,” he groaned. “That’s right.”
His hips pistoned against hers, pushing his hard and oh-so-large cock inside her again and again. She felt ripped from the inside out, and goddamn, but nothing had ever felt so fucking good before.
“Again,” he ordered. “Come for me again.”
Oh, he must be joking. She shook her head no, unable to speak the word.
“Again, Emma. Now.”
It was like the bastard owned her body. And maybe, at the moment anyway, he did. That was the only way she could explain how he managed to pump another blinding climax out of her. This one stronger and more powerful than the last.
“Oh, yeah, darlin’. Yeah.” Then his back arched and he came, his body shaking as he exploded inside her. He pumped his hips two more times before crash-landing right on top of her.
And Emma only had one question on her mind as her body worked to recover …
Did he just hiss at me?
Ten
He had to get off her. He really did. But still … she was so warm and soft. And he was so damn comfortable.
“Can’t breathe.”
Damn.
By sheer force of will, Kyle pushed himself up and off Emma, throwing himself back so he rested against the opposite end of the couch.
Breathing hard, their sweatpants down around their ankles, the two stared at each other for what felt like hours as opposed to the few seconds it actually turned out to be.
Then Kyle watched, fascinated, as Emma grabbed hold of the sofa pillow and covered her pretty, sweat-drenched face with it. There she was … Painfully Shy Emma. He had to admit, she was just as dang cute as Demanding, Bitchy Emma.
“I can’t believe I did that,” she groaned. “I want us to be clear”—she peeked over the pillow—“I do not do this often or anything.”
Kyle nodded. “I could tell.”
Emma slammed the pillow down onto her lap, covering up that pretty little pussy. “What the hell does that mean?”
Okay, exactly when did this conversation go wrong? How did he manage to do that so easily with her?
She struggled to sit up, but her body was not exactly cooperating. “Well?”
Shrugging, he told her, “Darlin’, you were a little too tight to be well used.”
Clearly confused, she stared at him. “Huh?”
Unable to feel stressed about anything, Kyle sighed out, “Your pussy, sweetheart.” He stretched against the couch like the big satisfied cat he was at the moment and smiled. “Tight and perfect.”
A small grin turned up the corners of her mouth. “Oh. Well, thanks … I guess.”
They stared at each other for a moment and then, with a tiny squeak, she covered up her face again with the pillow and turned her entire body away like she was trying to curl into herself.
Lord, if it wasn’t her hair hiding that face, it was a damn pillow.
“What now?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled into the pillow.
Still too mellow to worry about much of anything, he removed the condom and wiped himself off with a tissue before dumping it all in the trash can right next to the couch. With another too-relaxed sigh, Kyle leaned his head back against the armrest and stared up at the ceiling. He and his brother had built this house together, with his sister occasionally stepping in to cause additional problems. They did a nice job and only got into five or ten actual fistfights over the two years it took.
Emma moved and he knew—knew—she was going to run out on him. Even if she had to brave that nightmare storm to do it.
He slammed his foot down onto the lowered sweatpants she’d been desperately trying to pull back up and locked his sights on her face.
“Eep!” At least that’s what it sounded like she said.
“What are you doing?”
“Um … I … uh …”
“You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you?”
“Well … ya know …”
“’Cause you’re not going anywhere.”
“Well, I don’t want to put you out or anything. I can stay at a hotel or—”
“We ain’t done, Emma.”
Her entire body tensed at his words, and her small hands grabbed tight hold of that damn pillow again. “No?”
“No.” Not remotely done.
“Oh. Okay.”
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. No. This wouldn’t do. He didn’t want to deal with Painfully Shy Emma when it came to sex. He wanted the ballbuster. He wanted the woman who wouldn’t let him get away with a goddamn thing.
“Come here,” he ordered.
“Uh …”
“Now, Emma.”
“Stop ordering me around. It’s annoying the hell outta me.” A
hhh. There she was—his little ballbuster.
“Come here, Emma,” he coaxed, “and I’ll make it worth your while.”
Her lip caught between her teeth.
“Don’t make me wait, darlin’. I hate that.”
Using her hands, she pushed herself up until she rested on her knees. She moved forward and he shook his head. “Leave the pillow.”
Emma actually looked down at it like he’d asked her to leave her oxygen tank behind while going underwater. Eventually, though, she dropped it and moved forward again.
“Wait.”
She sighed in frustration. “What?”
“Take the sweatpants off. I want you naked.”
“Oh.” With less hesitation, she shimmied out of her sweatpants. Watching made his cock hard again, and her eyes widened when she noticed.
“Now, come here.”
She shuffled over to him on her knees while he pulled his sweatshirt off and tossed it across the room. By the time she reached him, he’d kicked the pants off and slipped another condom on.
“Can you handle another ride?”
With a chuckle, she looked away from his direct gaze. “The way you talk is … uh … interesting. Most of the guys from my neighborhood just say, ‘You wanna fuck again or what?’”
“Don’t compare me to Yankees, and you didn’t answer my question.”
Emma’s nipples stiffened and she gave a small nod, her eyes focused intently on his cock.
“A hard one?” he pushed, enjoying the blush creeping over her entire body.
“Yeah. Sure.” She swallowed and licked her lips, her big brown eyes still locked on his cock like she couldn’t wait to get to it. “Why not?” she asked it as opposed to asking him.
“Then bring that pretty little ass over here.”
Emma crawled into his lap and he held his cock, wordlessly telling her to impale herself on it. She did, slowly, and they both groaned at the contact.
Once he had her right where he wanted her, Kyle reached up and did what he’d been aching to do since he met her—he pushed her hair off her face. She pulled back a bit, but he wouldn’t let her go. Instead, he pulled her down for a kiss while keeping her hair off her face. First, he’d fuck her again. Then he’d fuck her in the shower. Both would involve getting her hair wet—sweat from the workout and water from the shower—so he could easily comb it out of his way to get a good long look at that pretty face.
“It’s gonna be slower this time, Emma,” he said between kisses.
“Okay,”
“Harder, too.”
Fresh, hot wetness coated his latex-covered cock, and she panted. Her hands reached up and gripped his biceps, her fingers digging into the skin.
“You up for that, Little Emma?”
She groaned and said, “Are you going to keep asking me questions, or are you going to get to it?”
“Anything you want, darlin’. Absolutely anything.” And then he gave her exactly what she wanted for the rest of the night.
Eleven
All night. They’d gone at it all night.
She’d heard about having sex all night but all her—few—past boyfriends usually passed out by one or two in the morning. Not Kyle. He kept going until about seven when, while showering together—which involved him licking her clean from head to toe—she finally begged him to let her sleep.
Five hours later and she had the overwhelming desire to make a run for it. Especially since she had no idea where Kyle was at the moment. She didn’t want any uncomfortable morning-after conversations. She really didn’t want any “pauses.”
Without bothering to think about it too much, she slipped out of bed intent on finding her clothes, but she froze when she saw the big window above Kyle’s bed. With the sun shining bright she could see a sparse forest with lots of tall trees taking up most of the view, but off to her right she could see the beach. The man had an ocean view. She used to dream about having a house with an ocean view, but on Long Island she’d need a few million to make that happen.
Shaking her head at the distraction, Emma remembered her clothes were still on the living-room floor.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered to herself while quietly stepping out into the hallway. She looked around and didn’t see Kyle. So, moving quickly and silently, she tiptoed down the hall and through the living room. Her clothes littered the floor and she grabbed at them, piling them in her arms.
She tiptoed over to the front door and pulled it open. Bright sunlight nearly blinded her, and the sound of the close-by ocean filled the house. I love it, she thought, a split second of regret cutting through her.
She shook her head. No feeling sorry for yourself. She’d get dressed, head back to the hospital and get her stuff, then get a hotel room at that Smithville Arms place. By tomorrow morning, she’d be on a plane back home with her Coven and that would be that.
Nodding her head, she took a step out the door.
“Now, did I tell you to get dressed, darlin’?”
Emma turned and slammed right into Kyle’s chest. She never heard him come up behind her. She didn’t even realize he’d been in the house, much less in the room. Wearing a pair of black sweatpants that rode low on his hips and nothing else, Kyle stared down at her.
And that’s when Emma realized she was in deeper than she should be. Way deeper than she should be. Because nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever looked so damn beautiful as this man in sweatpants.
Before she could do something stupid—like throw herself at him and promise never-ending love and fidelity—Emma burst out in one quick rush, “I was thinking I should go back to the hospital or get a hotel room or something.” So that I can avoid this particular morning-after conversation as if my life depended on it.
Kyle’s light gold eyes watched her, like someone might size up a lobster in a tank for dinner.
“So you’re just going to leave, Emma?” he finally said while gently pulling her back into the house. “Walk out on me?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
Reaching around her, he slammed the door shut.
“Then what way would you put it?” he asked, his fingers sliding across her jaw and down her throat. Emma’s toes curled against the hardwood floor. “You had your fun and now you’re going to go sneaking out on me?”
Was he kidding? “It’s not like that.”
Slowly, Kyle moved in on her, and Emma moved back and around as he maneuvered her away from the door. “My momma warned me about city women like you.”
Emma clutched her clothes to her chest as she stumbled away from him. “Actually … Long Island is more of a suburb.”
“She said y’all come down here for some good-ol’-boy lovin’ and then you leave us. Alone … and broken.”
A rather unladylike snort burst out of her, and Kyle sighed. “Now you’re laughing at me?”
“I’m not laughing at you. I just …” She watched as Kyle took hold of her sweatshirt with two fingers and tossed it over his shoulder. “Look, Kyle—” And there went her sweatpants.
Emma’s ass slammed into something hard, and she turned to find the dining-room table behind her. Uh-oh.
“I won’t be tossed aside, Emma. Used for my body.”
She turned and slapped her hands against his chest. “Stop it. Right now,” she demanded, even while she laughed. Even while she squirmed.
“We’re not done, Emma.”
“We have to be.”
Kyle shook his head, his disheveled black hair falling in front of his eyes. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t do it.”
“What do you mean you can’t—hey!” How she ended up flat on her back on that dining-room table, she had no idea.
Kyle threw her legs over his shoulders and licked the inside of her thigh. “Come on, darlin’,” he teased. “Give it up to ol’ Kyle.”
“You start referring to yourself in third person and we are so going to have a problem.”
“Okay. I’ll stop. But only if
you promise to spend the day with me.” He grinned at her. “Ya know, so I don’t feel so used.”
“Okay. If you’re—oh!”
Before she could finish her sentence, Kyle pushed her legs against her chest and leaned down. He brushed his mouth against her pussy, and she whimpered.
“You’re already so wet, Emma.” He looked up at her, and she didn’t quite know what to do with the heat she saw in that handsome face. And all of it for her, apparently. “Have you been thinking about me this morning?”
Had she been thinking of anything else?
She nodded, not sure she should risk speaking.
“Did you touch yourself while you were? Did you make yourself come?”
“I haven’t done that with my hands since I gave myself carpal tunnel a couple of years ago.”
He stood there for a second, his mouth so close to her clit she thought she might burst out of her skin if he didn’t touch it, or stroke it, or something. But then he started laughing. So hard, he finally laid his head on her stomach, his arms resting on the table.
Confused, she stared at him. Then her eyes widened and she said, “No, no! I got carpal tunnel from typing too much at my job!”
Kyle laughed harder. He hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. And never with a female he’d been sleeping with. Getting off and getting out being the way of most residents of Smithville, both male and female.
Emma, though … Emma was different. Being with her felt so good. He could relax, and not once did she try and go for his throat or try and take his deer. But in no way was she boring in bed. A little shy at times, but once he got her hot enough—which didn’t take much—her shyness went right out the window.
“Come on, darlin’.” He wiped tears from his eyes, then slipped his hands under her body and lifted her into his arms. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”
She buried her face in his neck. “Good. I need a pillow.”
Kyle coughed to stop the laugh about to come out. “Don’t be embarrassed, Emma.” He wrapped her legs around his waist and headed to his bedroom. “You can say whatever you want to me. Don’t forget that.”
“And you won’t laugh?”
My Kind of Town Page 8